


The Value of Treasure

by ClockworkDragon



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Memories, Sanji-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDragon/pseuds/ClockworkDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While robbing some bandits, Sanji reflects on the treasure they are stealing. He realizes that he has a different view on the gold than his dear navigator.<br/>A fic in which Sanji understands the value of treasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Value of Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 32 Days of Sanji event on tumblr. The theme for this week was Treasure and/or Passion. Enjoy!

“Hurry up, Nami. I think I hear more of them coming.”

“Shut it, Usopp, that’s just your knees banging together from fright,” she dead panned. Unaffected by her nakama’s nervous chatter, the redhead continued her task of picking the lock. “Besides, these posers are weak. If they do come, you and Sanji-kun can hand them their asses no problem.”

Sanji, who had been keeping watch at the end of the hallway, swooned at the mention of his name from the navigator’s perfect lips.

“Of course I would protect you from these bastards, my beautiful Nami-swannnn,” he spun down the hallway to bow chivalrously beside her. “Leave it to your prince!”

Usopp groaned, but Nami didn’t so much as bat an eye at the blonde’s behaviour. She was completely focused on the lock, confident that it would yield to her quick fingers.

“Are you even sure you can pick that thing? It’s pretty huge,” Usopp remarked.

“Size is irrelevant, it’s the complexity that matters. Luckily, this model is fairly simple.”

The lock was by far the biggest hunk of iron Sanji had ever seen, and it spanned the entire width of the wooden door it was placed on. It would have probably taken Sanji a few minutes to kick through it, though it still would have been quicker than what Nami was doing.

But she had argued that breaking the lock may trigger any traps inside, though she doubted the bandits they were robbing thought that far ahead. Still, better safe than sorry.

It was a testament to the navigator’s skills when the metal rod snapped out of its hold, effectively opening the lock. Sanji sang praises to her, but Nami was already opening the large door, eager to see how much loot was hidden behind it. As his nakama went inside, Sanji double checked the hallway for pursuers. Finding none, he entered the treasure room.

Apparently mobbing people on the side of the road pays big, because there was gold everywhere. There were baskets full of coins, piles of mismatched armour, and chests filled to the brim with jewellery and precious stones. Sanji glanced at Nami, who to her credit, was keeping it together pretty well. Her eyes had turned to Belli signs and she was drooling slightly, but she was still standing, so that was a good sign.

“Look Sanji! This stone looks like the ocean!” he heard Usopp call from behind one of the chests.

Sanji walked over to take a look, and Usopp held his treasure up proudly. The gem was about the size of Usopp’s palm and had semi-smooth edges. It was a rich blue, with lighter clear blue veins running through its body. The room was dimly lit, oil lamps provided the only light. But the gem caught each faint flicker and as the light danced across its surface, the veins seemed to shift giving the illusion of ocean waves.

“Beautiful,” Sanji breathed. He snatched the gemstone from Usopp, flicking the sharpshooter’s nose with his other hand. “Nice find, longnose.”

“Sanji-kuuuun!”

The blonde turned towards Nami, giving her his full attention.

“I need you to start packing the stuff from those baskets into these,” she said, holding out several canvas bags.

Filled with purpose, Sanji enthusiastically obliged, pouring basket after basket of coins into the bags. Sweeping the entire room took more time than any of them would have liked, and once all the bags were filled, there were still piles left over. Nami pouted at having to leave even one piece of gold behind, but the number of bags they had would be difficult enough to carry back.

“Maybe we could come back for the rest,” she said hopefully. But no, there would be no coming back, for their captain had probably caused enough havoc for them to have to make yet another hasty exit.

They divided the bags between them and started to load up. As Sanji reached for his bags, however, he was reminded of another place and another bag of treasure. He hefted the treasure over his shoulder, and the weight of it settled against him.

He glanced at Nami. She probably felt the ‘weight’ of it too. But, he thought, she felt it in a very different way. Nami, for all her obsessing, did not _value_ money. Rather, she knew the value _of_ money. In her childhood she learned the hard way that wealth gave you power. If you could buy it, you could have it, no moralities attached. Sanji knew that money wasn’t everything to her; that her nakama, her dream, meant more to her than any belli amount.

He understood why she still sought wealth though. He knew why she was so strict with their treasure. The crew had been there when they had tried to buy Camie back from the slave traders. They all felt the horror of not having enough to save their friend. The entire situation had worked out somehow, but what if they weren’t so lucky next time? What if one of their lives depended on how much belli they had stocked up?

Nami probably stressed about that. Her years of suffering likely left their mark on her mind. She felt it all the time; the weight, the fear that it may never be enough.

He laughed harshly, earning a curious glance from Usopp.

It was funny, because if Nami knew how valuable and powerful the treasure was, then Sanji knew how utterly fucking worthless and useless it could be.

He remembers that treasure, god he remembers.

He remembers how its main function in society, to buy, became void. There were no merchants or peddlers or even children selling flowers to buy from. There was no one out at sea except for him and the shitty geezer.

He remembers when he cracked. He remembers how he attacked Zeff to eat that food that was in the pack. The food that never existed. Humans can’t eat treasure.

He remembers those horrible nights. When the body has no fat, you get cold so easily. If he didn’t die of starvation, he suspected he would die of hyperthermia. He remembers trying to press the treasure against his body for warmth. The metals would absorb the sun’s heat during the day, but it would seep out too quickly, becoming bitingly cold when he needed it most.

He remembers wanting it to end. All the pain, the cold, the hunger. He remembered being tired. And not one piece of goddamn  treasure could even double as a fucking pillow to make his death remotely comfortable.

On that rock, Sanji discovered it all.

He is aware of how important their treasure is to their well-being. He buys food with its power after all. But he won’t rely on it. Never.

“Come on, Sanji-kun.” Nami looked back at him, and he became aware that he was falling behind. He quickened his pace to catch up.

Nami was afraid of never having enough money.

Sanji was afraid of having nothing but money.

He wondered which was worse.

**Author's Note:**

> That was alot deeper than I intended. Seriously though, check out the awesome fics, art and edits done as tribute to our beloved swirly-cook. #32daysofsanji on tumblr


End file.
